Companions
Dr. Finley, President of the University of the State of New York, and Commissioner of Education, finely says:[1] “It is figurative language, of course, to speak of God’s ‘walking’ with man. But I do not know where to find a better expression for the companionship which one enjoys when walking alone on the earth. I should not speak of this if I thought it was an experience for the patriarchs alone or for the few. A man does not know one of the greatest satisfactions of life if he has not had such walks.”
The prophets of the cult—Hazlitt and Stevenson—are quite eloquent on the point, that the first joys of walking are reserved for those who walk alone; even Emerson cynically observes that a dog may on occasion be better company than a man. But the solitary Thoreau admits that he sometimes has a companion, while sociable Lawrence Sterne prettily says, “Let me have a companion of my way, were it but to remark how the shadows lengthen as the sun declines.”
Ordinarily, we prefer—most of us—to walk in company; if the tour is an extended one, continuing through many days, we certainly do. And nothing is more important than the choice of companions. A mistake here may be a kill-joy. Daily, hourly intercourse rubs individuality upon individuality, till every oddity, every sensitive point, is worn to the quick. Be forewarned, then, and be sure of one’s companions. Conversely, let a man be sure of himself, resolutely refusing to find offense, or to lose kindliness, good humor, and good will. “’Tis the best of humanity,” says Emerson, “that goes out to walk.”
A common interest in things seen, stimulated perhaps by reading matter carried along, may be the selective process in making up a party; but friendship underlies all.
A proved company of two, three, or four is best. With greater numbers, the party loses intimacy and coherence; furthermore, if dependent on hospitality by the way, difficulties arise. A housewife who willingly provides for two, may hesitate to entertain six.
If there be one in the party who has an aptitude for it, let him keep a journal (in the form of letters home, perhaps). Such a record, illustrated by photographs, is a souvenir to afford long-continued delight.
When walking in out-of-the-way places it is the part of prudence always to have a companion; for, otherwise, in case of mishap, a man might be in sorry plight, or even in actual danger.